Constructor: Carolyn Davies Lynch and Christina Iverson
Relative difficulty: Medium (solved Downs-only)
THEME: "Rhyming advice" — familiar expressions where the first half rhymes with the second half:
Theme answers:
"SAY IT, DON'T SPRAY IT" (18A: Rhyming advice to a spitting talker)
"NO PAIN, NO GAIN" (31A: Rhyming advice to a gym rat)
"BE KIND, REWIND" (47A: Rhyming advice to a renter of VHS tapes)
"YOU SNOOZE, YOU LOSE" (64A: Rhyming advice to a procrastinator)
Word of the Day: SHISO (69A: Leaf on a sushi tray) —
Perilla frutescensvar.crispa, also known by its Japanese name shiso (紫蘇) from Chinese zisu, is a cultigen of Perilla frutescens, a herb in the mint family Lamiaceae. It is native to the mountainous regions of China and India, but is now found worldwide. The plant occurs in several forms, as defined by the characteristics of their leaves, including red, green, bicolor, and ruffled. Shiso is perennial and may be cultivated as an annual in temperate climates. Different parts of the plant are used in East Asian and Southeast Asian cuisine. [...]
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This is a cute theme idea, but the cluing is all off. None of these expressions really qualify as "advice." SAY IT, DON'T SPRAY IT isn't "advice," it's mockery, used to demean or humiliate someone who is speaking loudly or forcefully enough to project saliva. I guess BE KIND, REWIND is "advice" of a sort, but it's more of a politely worded command from your friendly neighborhood video store (of yore). "NO PAIN, NO GAIN" is just an expression, a (stupid, foolhardy) bit of encouragement, often to oneself, mostly said as a kind of general truism, not as earnest "advice." The least advice-y of all of these is "YOU SNOOZE, YOU LOSE," which is a straight-up taunt to someone who was too slow to get whatever it is they wanted, usually uttered by the person who did, in fact, get that thing. Say, the last cookie or the front seat. Clearly, I'm imagining a kid saying it. Whatever, it's a taunt not "advice." And "procrastination" is rarely if ever the issue. Being merely too slow on the uptake does not mean that one "procrastinated" (a longer-term proposition). I understand the desire to solidify and tighten the theme with repetitive cluing, but I think the rhyminess of the expressions is self-evidently a unifying principle. No need to awkwardly force the cluing into line. The one bit of "rhyming advice" I can think of that's missing from this list is "USE IT OR LOSE IT"—which is, more than all the others, proper "advice." Still, I had fun figuring out these theme phrases. Sometimes not reading the Across clues helps with overall enjoyment.
Lots of short fill kind of weighs the grid down a little. 3-4-5s abound, and that always makes things a little leaden. But I will say that SCARY GOOD is scary good, a real high point among the non-theme answers. DELI CASES is adequate but not exciting, and nothing else really gets off the ground. The only scary (bad) moment I had while solving came in the SE, where all the Downs looked correct, but I ended up with an unrecognizable "word" in the crosses: SHISO. Took one look at SHISO and thought, "Oh crud, what did I do wrong?" Checked those Downs. Rechecked those Downs. Cannot see an error. Cannot fathom an error. Eventually I just left it in and hoped that it was, I dunno, some kind of pepper (like a shishito, maybe?). And I was close. Ballpark. SHISO is Japanese, and it is culinary, but it's not a pepper. It's a highly serrated green leaf used primarily for (sushi) garnish in east Asian cuisine. As I started to look up SHISO, I had this uneasy feeling that I had done this before (missed SHISO, looked it up). And I was right. SHISO has appeared before. Once. Back in May of last year. Here's what I had to say about it then:
As for SHISO, even looking it up didn't help much. A lot of its use in Japanese cuisine appears to be as a garnish, or a coloring agent. But it is common, so I have no complaints about its crossworthiness. Happy to learn a new culinary term (even if I'm doomed to forget it fairly quickly, probably).
Good to see that I know myself so well. I did indeed forget SHISO fairly quickly. Haven't seen or heard the word since that NYTXW appearance last year. With those (common) letters, you'd expect the term to proliferate. Maybe its appearance here—on a Monday (?)—is evidence that that is in fact what's about to happen. It's easily the least Monday thing in the grid, but maybe next time I won't feel that way. Third time's the charm! (how's that for non-rhyming non-advice?).
Bullets:
27A: Acronym of affection in ASL (ILY) — as in "I love you." It's also an "acronym of affection" in texting. ILY will always look (to me) like an adverbial suffix pretending to be something else. This is only the third appearance of ILY all time, all of those appearances coming since 2023. All of them abbrevs. for "I love you."
28A: E.M.T. process often administered to the beat of "Stayin' Alive" (CPR) — I've heard this before, and it's meaningful to me because I was the right age to be engulfed overwhelmed and swallowed alive by the Saturday Night Fever Soundtrack. A musical juggernaut if there ever was one. But does the "Stayin' Alive" reference mean anything to younger people? I assume that song has a cultural afterlife, but how big, I don't know. Maybe CPR classes are single-handedly keeping that song alive for future generations.
6D: Chocolate treat designed to look like a mountaintop (SNO CAP) — one of the tougher downs, as I never see SNO CAPs anywhere but the candy counter at the movie theater, and I never, ever get them. I think I had them once as a kid and they must've made a bad impression on me because I love chocolate and I love mountaintops, but SNO CAPs, not so much. Not a "treat." Maybe I'll give them another try? I was imagining so many "chocolate treats." Sundaes, s'mores. If you want a candy, say "candy." "Treat" = bah!
37D: Where meats and cheeses are often displayed (DELI CASES) — briefly confounding, as nothing about the clue indicates a plural. "Where" tends to suggest a single specific place or a general term for a place, not multiple places. "Meats" and "cheeses" are plural, yes, but those plurals can typically be found in single DELI CASE. It's not like there's a DELI CASE out there that features just one meat and just one cheese. So I tried to think of a synonym for "case" for a little bit, before finally giving in and just attempting the plural. Which was correct.
66D: Initialism on a Navy carrier (U.S.S.) — first thought: "H.M.S." Then I remembered "H.M.S." stands for "Her Majesty's Ship" and thus unlikely to appear on an American seacraft. I guess the clue didn't specify American Navy, but I inferred it. So I pivoted to U.S.S. (United States Ship). But then SHISO happened, and I started wondering whether there was some other naval "initialism" I didn't know about. In the end, I stuck with U.S.S. The Correct Move.
46D: Source of motivation, in modern lingo (INSPO) — like "Insta," INSPO is with us to stay, apparently. Short for "inspiration," this is INSPO's sixth NYTXW appearance. As with ILY, all those appearances have been in the last three years (since 2023).
55D: "Get outta my hair!," in a text (MYOB) — "mind your own business." Yet another slangy, internet-inspired shortening. This puzzle is rather heavy on shortenings in general. RELO. AMNIO. It can get a little wearing.
40A: Garage jobs involving grease guns (LUBES) — saw LUBES in the Acrosses and thought, "Whoa, I wonder if today is the day that LUBES finally gets a sex clue." But no. Not today. Some day (I assume). But not today. We did get [Slippery stuff] back in 2023, but that's not exactly sex-specific. I'm not saying I *want* a sex clue, exactly, I'm just saying ... it's coming. While the "garage" meaning of LUBE(S) is obviously valid, I think the other meaning of LUBE is more top-of-the-brain for most people these days. I went to Merriam-Webster dot com to look at their "Recent Examples on the Web" feature for LUBE, and ... well, there are no garages in sight:
That's all for today. See you next time.
Signed, Rex Parker, King of CrossWorld
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THEME: "It's All Greek" — a "PHI" (ϕ) rebus where the letters "PHI" work in one direction and in the other direction, both the letter "I" and letter "O" are required to make sense of the answer—the "PHI"-containing word must be read twice, first with an "I" and then with an "O" (because the Greek letter PHI (ϕ) looks like "an 'I' atop an 'O'") (107D: Greek letter that resembles an "I" atop an "O" = PHI).
Theme answers:
PING-[PONG] PADDLE / AMPHIBIA (22A: Article of sports equipment that typically has two rubber sheets of different colors / 2D: Class with frogs)
CRISS-[CROSS] PUZZLE / DELPHI (32A: Game on some kids' menus / 20D: Classical Greek precinct with a noted oracle)
DING-[DONG] DITCH / SAPPHIRE (38D: Prank of doorbell ringing and running / 46A: Birthstone before opal)
HIP-[HOP] ARTISTS / DOLPHIN (111A: Tupac and Eminem, for two / 92D: Intelligent sea mammal)
Word of the Day: OBELI (26A: Division signs, more formally) —
An obelus (plural: obeluses or obeli) is a historical annotation mark in codicology that has come to have three distinct modern forms, meanings and typographical uses:
The word "obelus" comes from ὀβελός (obelós), the Ancient Greek word for a sharpened stick, spit, or pointed pillar. This is the same root as that of the word 'obelisk'. In codicology, a (usually horizontal) obelus in the form of a dagger was used to indicate erroneous or dubious content. The third symbol is an obsolescent mark used in some European countries
In mathematics, the ÷ symbol is mainly used in Anglophone countries to represent the mathematical operation of division (but has other meanings elsewhere) and is called an obelus in older textbooks. In modern typography, the second symbol, called a dagger mark † is used as a reference mark or footnote indicator. It also has other uses in a variety of specialist contexts. (wikipedia)
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***THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU*** Today is the last day of my annual week-long pitch for financial contributions to the blog. This week has been delightful, if a bit overwhelming. I'm frankly at a bit of a loss for words. I've written and torn out these first few sentences over and over, trying to find a way to express how much I appreciate your support. I have been doing this—writing this blog—for twenty (20!) years as of this September. It is so tightly woven into the fabric of my life that I rarely think about what I'm doing, or why. I just do it. It's ... what I do. As regular a part of my day as brushing my teeth. But it takes a lot more time than brushing my teeth. I would not get up at 4am every day just to brush my teeth. But I do get up at 4am to write this blog, no matter what, rain/shine (or, where, I live, more like gray/grayer). Which brings me back to this question of "Why?" I know that part of it is pure obsession, genuine enthusiasm, a love for crosswords and (I hope you can tell) a love for writing. But a big part of it is you. I have a sense of obligation to a large and loyal audience who expect the blog to be there for them every morning, or every Sunday, or every time they get stuck. The obligation isn't onerous. Frankly, it's a privilege. I feel like I conjured you all out of thin air by some miraculous stroke of luck and every year I half expect that you'll just ... poof, disappear, gone as quickly as you arrived. This week, however—there you are, all at once, many of you offering messages of support and encouragement, or sharing your crossword-solving lives with me and telling me how much the blog is part of your routine.
Look at that! I'm outranked only by "take pills"! Seems reasonable! This is the week when I really feel the broader blog-reading community most strongly, and if I had to give one reason why I keep writing every day—beyond habit, inertia, mania, etc.—it's community. You all make me feel like I'm part of something special. And as I begin to contemplate both retirement (from my day job) and relocation (not now, but not long from now either), your annual financial support of the work I do here means more and more to me. I can only say what I've said many times by now: thank you.
The first of the thank-you cards are already in the mail (they arrived from the printer earlier this week looking perfect):
[illustration by Katie Kosma]
If you were able to contribute this year, that is thrilling to me, but if you weren't able, that's also OK. Money is tight for many and you can only manage what you can manage. This blog is free to anyone who wants it or needs it, whether you are a financial backer or not. I just want you to keep solving and keep reading. Thanks for taking the time to pay attention to any of this. One last time, here are the various ways you can contribute (now, or at any time during the year).
There's Paypal:
There's Venmo: @MichaelDavidSharp (the last four digits of my phone are 4878, in case Venmo asks you, which it apparently does sometimes)
And if you want one of the film noir-inspired postcards, there's the actual mail (you can make checks payable to either "Michael Sharp” or “Rex Parker"):
Rex Parker c/o Michael Sharp
54 Matthews St.
Binghamton, NY 13905
All this contact information lives full-time in the sidebar of my website and at the bottom of every post, in case you feel inclined to contribute months from now :)
OK. That's it. To all my readers (and my hate-readers)—welcome to another year of this here blog. I'm so grateful for your company. Now buckle up. Let's go.
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Truth be told, I found this one a little boring. My feelings about it were three-star, but the commitment to the PHI bit was so total, so wall-to-wall, so ornate, that I had to give it a grudging little bump. I don't much care for picture-based puzzles, since they add nothing to to the solving experience, but the architecture of today's grid—with its depiction of a giant black-square PHI / ϕ actually makes the grid kind of interesting to navigate. Creates these weird little pockets in the center of the grid, one just to each side. I liked those. I also liked the attempt to make the theme execution somewhat orderly, with the ϕ (I/O) being part of the Across themers at the top and bottom of the grid, but part of the Down themers in the middle. Something about the way those four Down themers line up in a row like that, one in each of the four chunks of white space in the middle of the grid, seemed very neat, tidy, orderly. Also, the idea that you have to repeat the word to make sense of the answer (once with the "I," once with the "O") is a bit of genius. Architecturally, it is impressive. Solving it was a bit monotonous (all ϕ, all day long), but the execution was nonetheless impressive.
Do you think this puzzle needed a revealer? It struck me as completely anticlimactic and unnecessary, but I guess it does go some ways toward explaining the theme concept, which might have been unclear. Or maybe people found the revealer first and the clue helped them decipher the theme concept. I don't know. All I know is I'd been writing "PHI" into squares over and over and then got to a revealer that had nothing to say to me but "PHI"! Yeah, PHI, I know, PHI, I've been writing PHI, I see the big PHI symbol depicted in the grid, stop saying "PHI!" Is it PHI Day? Oh, wait ... is PHI a secret wink to crossword tournament-goers, a subtle celebration of the fact that the American Crossword Tournament (ACPT) is moving to PHI-ladelphia in 2027? Tragically, my wife and I did not register for this year's tournament right away and registration is already closed (!?). Guess we won't get to defend our Pairs title. Oh well, we'll just have to wait for 2027, when we can be the first PHI-ladelphia champions.
Figuring out the theme gimmick today was probably the hardest part of today's puzzle, and for me it wasn't that hard. Had the gist of it before I ever got out of the NW, though weirdly didn't get the rationale for the "I"/"O" thing until several themers later. Hilarious to look at the grid and (eventually) see a giant PHI (ϕ) staring at me. Like "hey, dummy, it's me, ϕ, the key to understanding the puzzle, hiding in plain sight!" But not fully understanding the ϕ part at first didn't impede my actually solving. I flailed around the NW a bit trying to grasp that first theme square, which was slippery as a bar of soap thanks to the weird-word team of AMPHIBIA and OBELI. But after I made it out of there, very few answers gave me trouble. I have no idea what songs Flo Rida ever sang. I thought maybe he tried "just a little." But no, apparently he cries (77A: Flo Rida title sung before the words "just a little" = "I CRY"). I have no idea what ETHENE is (84A: Compound that ripens bananas). I definitely had ETHANE in there for a while. In that same section, I thought maybe 48D: Identifies digitally? was pointing TO rather than pointing AT somebody (POINTS AT). I never see the word CONTES unless it's on the cover of a book of French short stories, so that answer was a little tough, as clued (95D: Short adventure tales). But I've got hardly any green ink on my puzzle print-out, which means genuine trouble spots were almost non-existent.
Bullets:
16A: Bygone carrier that had a fleet of "Clippers" (PAN AM) — these were apparently flying boats (!?). Did regular passengers actually fly on these? Looks like, yes, they were some sort of luxury option (??).
The Boeing 314 Clipper was an American long-range flying boat produced by Boeing from 1938 to 1941. One of the largest aircraft of its time, it had the range to cross the Atlantic and Pacific oceans. For its wing, Boeing re-used the design from the earlier XB-15 bomber prototype. Twelve Clippers were built, nine of which served with Pan Am. It was the first aircraft to carry a sitting American president, when in 1943 Franklin D. Roosevelt flew from Miami to the Casablanca Conference in Morocco, via Trinidad, Brazil, and The Gambia. (wikipedia)
53A: Debaters who use deceptive arguments (SOPHISTS) — one of the things that made the grid interesting today was all the "PHI"-containing words. SOPHISTS and SAPPHIREs and DOLPHINs etc. The "I"/"O" answers are flashier, of course, but I'm surprised how solid and (relatively) colorful all the "PHI" words are.
70A: Two-time capital of the Mughal Empire (DELHI) — my brain short-circuited here and instead of selecting a "Mughal"-appropriate place, it just started cycling in familiar five-letter cities. My first thought was CAIRO (!?). I think I also considered DUBAI at one point. Bizarre.
91A: Bit of entertainment for a morning commute, maybe (PODCAST) — true enough, I suppose, but this was a little hard for me, as I don't have a much of a "morning commute," don't usually listen to PODCASTs in the mornings, and don't really think of PODCASTs as "entertainment." Of course they are, but my brain has categorized them as "informational" more than "entertaining."
13D: Mushroom often added to cream sauces (MOREL) — crossword mushroom protip: it's MOREL or ENOKI. If you've got a five-letter mushroom on your hands, it's a MOREL or an ENOKI. And since "cream sauces" seem more French than Japanese ... MOREL.
103A: "I'm fine, but thanks anyway!" ("OH, THAT'S OK!") — really stretching the "OH" limits here. Are we just adding "OH" to the beginning of any expression? OH HI, OH YES, OH SURE, OH GIVE ME A BREAK, OH YOU MUST BE KIDDING, where does it end!? I'm not actually that mad at this answer, since I can definitely hear someone (me?) saying this phrase. I just want to raise "OH" proliferation as a matter of potential public concern. I'm raising awareness here. Let's all just keep an eye on it.
Signed, Rex Parker, King of CrossWorld
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A long time ago, I was solving this puzzle and got stuck at an unguessable (to me) crossing: N. C. WYETH crossing NATICK at the "N"—I knew WYETH but forgot his initials, and NATICK ... is a suburb of Boston that I had no hope of knowing. It was clued as someplace the Boston Marathon runs through (???). Anyway, NATICK— the more obscure name in that crossing—became shorthand for an unguessable cross, esp. where the cross involves two proper nouns, neither of which is exceedingly well known. NATICK took hold as crossword slang, and the term can now be both noun ("I had a NATICK in the SW corner...") or verb ("I got NATICKED by 50A / 34D!")